Blunting A Rude Question

DEAR ABBY Syndicated Columnist

Dear Abby: My friend "Janet" and I married shipmates in the Navy. She and her hubby adopted two babies; then they had two of their own.

They were determined to keep the adoptions from their children to avoid sibling rivalry. The adoptions were entered into the husband's record, which is supposed to be kept confidential.

The Navy gave us a huge "welcome home" party, and we were seated with a large group when a woman came rushing to our table and blurted out:

"Say, Janet, I just heard that two of your kids are adopted! Which ones are they?''

Janet looked her in the eye and calmly replied, "I haven't the faintest idea."- Still Laughing

Dear Still Laughing: What a sensitive, loving retort! This apparently occurred during World War II, when adopted children were seldom told that they were adopted. Today, fortunately, most parents are more open, and very early on, they tell their adopted children that they were "chosen" - giving them the assurance that they are special.

Dear Abby: I wrote as soon as I read your column about what nurses should call elderly people in a nursing home: As a sign of respect, they are trained to call the men "Mister" and the women "Miss" or "Mrs. So-and-So."I am in training now to become a nursing assistant, and I was told to call the residents whatever theyIn Training in Minnesota Dear In Training: I agree with your instructors. Recently I received a letter from a 94-year-old resident in a nursing home who resented being called "Mrs."She said, "I asked the staff to please call me `Edna'; it makes me feel young again!''

Dear Abby: Regarding parents who put their children on leashes: When I was 3 years old, we lived on a farm, and my father used to take me into town with him. While he was visiting with his friends at the feed store, I wandered off and was missing for about an hour. I had talked to strangers, and got into a car with a strange man.

Fortunately, he had heard that my parents were looking for me, so he took me home to my mother. (This was 35 years ago.) After that, my parents put me on a leash when they took me to town with them.

Interestingly, I don't recall any bad feelings about wearing a leash. All I can remember was the mixture of anguish and joy on my mother's face when that man brought me home.

To those who leash their children: Don't worry about what strangers might think. Worry about what strangers might DO. - Glad to be OK